Knife Called Lust
by JinxRomance
Summary: Sequel to 'Empty Walls' When Holmes brought to the 21st century, Lara is less then pleased. With a plot 200 years in the making, everything falls to pieces. SH/OC AU
1. Prologue

_Holmes and I both knew this was the end. The battle royal. We entered the lab, senses alert._

"_Back already!" That gleeful voice echoed, making us stop, our backs to each others as or revolvers were at the ready. "Maybe I'll take away your dog this time!" Holmes became tense._

"_I won't let you." Holmes stated with such intensity, if it were not a time like this, I would have been flattered._

"_Are you willing to bet his life on it?" With that said, a gun was at my temple._

"No…." I muttered, eyes wide. I tried to continue but I couldn't. I set the book down, running my hand over my face. It's been four years since I've come back, and everything was normal. Say for the fact that all the books I collected that were once made by Sir. Canon, now said Dr. John Watson. To this day I am still baffled by how it is even remotely possible, but nothing came. Plus, I was now in the books. The first one I was in was named _Sherlock Holmes and Lady Luck_. That made me smile some. But now, these books had true meaning. What ever was written, actually happened. I sighed, putting the book on the floor as I laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling. After the life I lead with Watson and Holmes, it was weird adjusting to normal life. In the first year, I wrote a book that became a best seller. So, I got plenty of cash and am now living in the house my parents lived in. After two years two more years, I got bored and decided to start college. Now I just live in a boring life, with classes and bills and whatnots. As I closed my eyes to go to sleep, I couldn't help but wish for things to change…

*Sherlock's POV*

We were both breathing heavily, standing ten feet apart. The wind blew as the sun went down, the ocean turning orange and the sky pink. I looked down to Watson, who was knocked out, then back to Moriarty.

"How clever you think you are." He growled. "You took out all of my gangs, and found out where I was. You even kept up with me in hand-to-hand, but this is it." He put his hand in his pocket, making me tense. "This is where we will see who is the best." Watson groaned, going onto his side shaking his head. "This is where everything changes!" Moriarty came at me. We fought once more, hand to hand. I calculated his every move, but failed to deduce my own. Before I had the chance to notice, my own back was facing the cliff's end. He punched me, and I was now at the edge, the waters far below me. I looked down, then up at him with wide eyes. It couldn't be… Had he truly bested me? "This, Sherlock, is where you will see where my plans have been leading too." Watson sat up, finally taking everything in with wide, blue eyes. Moriarty ran at me, holding onto my shirt, smiling wickedly. "Hope you have fun in the next world." With a shove I was pushed off the ledge, falling.

"HOLMES!" I heard Watson shout, but then there was nothing, and I hit a floor. I ground, coughing as I opened my eyes, seeing smoke all around. I stood, blinking around the fog.

"I dear say Watson, next time we take a trip we shall take a trolly!" I said, but noticed he was not there. And I was certainly not back in 221B. As the smoke cleared, I seemed to be in a sort of kitchen. I noted the how everything looked so queer and foreign. I walked forward, seeing a light on. I reached what appeared to be a living area, only to freeze. I looked down at my shirt to see a remote attached to it. I looked back up, blinking.

"Oh dear…"


	2. Stay

I woke up to the sound of the news. I blinked some, thinking I didn't have it on when I fell asleep. Hell, I don't even watch the news. "No, no. That girl is far to short to have done it." My eyes snapped open then, shooting up as I looked to the arm chair part of the couch. "Hn. No one listens to me anymore…" None other then Sherlock Holmes said, sitting back, crossing his legs. I stared, mouth open, as he was typing on my laptop, eyes together. Questions flew by me, me only picking up a few. How in the hell is he here? How does he know how to use a laptop and a TV? And why does he look younger? "Keep staring, I might do a trick." He said, and finally looked up at me with mischievous eyes. I blinked slowly, shaking my head.

"This must be a dream." I muttered, hitting my head some. He merely shrugged, going back to the laptop. "Think of it as you will, but I am here." I groaned, falling back down to the couch.

"How do you even know how to use a laptop?" I muttered, glaring at the ceiling.

"You told me when you lived back in my time. Also how to use a Television. Simple really." He said, making me roll my eyes.

"How did you get here anyway?" I asked next, going through my list.

"Moriarty. We were battling, and he pushed me off a cliff, but not without putting a remote on my shirt. Next thing I know, I am here." He muttered, and I sat up, looking for my book I put down last night. "Yes, it is all here." I looked to him as he said this, and he held up the book I was reading. "I must say, it is quite interesting to see things in Watson's point of view." he said, putting the book down and staring at me.

"Why do you look so young?" I asked and he smiled. I noticed he didn't have grey hair, not as much wrinkles and even more muscle mass. He looked maybe in his mid-twenties.

"I'm guessing it would have to do with the space-time continuum I was researching about one day. Since I was moving so fast, I came through time in the future, I decreased in age." I ran a hand down my face, groaning. To early to talk about physics.

"This sucks." I muttered, arm hanging off the couch.

"And here I thought you'd be happy to see me." I sat up as he said this, glaring. Then smiled, standing.

"Stand up." He looked me over, as he slowly stood, looking cautious. I walked up to him and held my left hand out, smiling.

"Good ta see ya ol' boy!" As he slowly raised his hand to shake mine, my face turned from sweet to sour, and I swung at his face with my right hand. He stumbled back some, holding his nose as he stared at me with baffled eyes. "Are you stupid?" I said, making sniff as he lowered his hand. "You are now stuck in _my_ time, in which you haven't a clue on what is going on! I don't have time to baby-sit you! I have school and a job!" He raised an eyebrow at me, his brown eyes becoming calculating. God-damnit.

"That isn't what your worried about. If you are worried at all which I doubt." He rubbed his nose and turned his back to me, walking to the window. "Your angry, which is understandable, considering what I did." There was a tense silence were I finally took him in. He wore his corduroy jacket with normal white shirt underneath. I noticed his hat and circular sunglasses on the table, along with his revolver. His back was straight, hands behind it. Besides his age, nothing changed about this crude man.

"Don't act like you know me Holmes." I muttered, only to have him spin on his heel, a dark smile forming on his lips. Yep, knew that would set something off.

"I know more then you care to think Mi' Lady." He took a seat in the recliner by the couch, legs crossed as he entwined his hands. "For instance, you've been self-abusing yourself. The cuts on your arms where your sleeve came up whilst you slept told me that." Instinctively I lowered my sleeve more as he said this. "You keep your head down when you walk telling me two things: you have acute perihelia vision and you can't stand looking people in the eyes. You wear boy clothing saying you have low self-esteem, even though you talk arrogantly. Your sarcastic and play dumb, meaning you hate people knowing you are smart. You talk long strides, fists clenched, saying your use to running and being on the defense probably from living on your own for so long. You hate people, meaning you understand them. You look all ways before you enter a room, analyzing it." He looked up at the ceiling then, sniffing a bit. "You use famine smells, hiding odors in your house telling me people come. Or, not people…" He sniffed once more, looking back at the wall vacantly. "One. Male. Meaning someone is courting you or else he would never set foot across this threshold.' He looked to me then, smirking. "That is what you didn't want me to know. Why is that?" I closed my eyes, flopping down into the seat he sat in when I awoke.

"Because you love to get into people's lives." I muttered, running a hand through my blond bangs.

"Indeed." There was a moment of silence before I broke it.

"We need to get you back. I'll go online to see how the last book ends since that's the only one I am missing, oddly enough." I said, grabbing the laptop and getting online.

"How is that odd?" He asked, not moving.

"'Cause I had it before I was in your world. I came back and it's go- what the?" I murmured, cutting off my sentence.

"Hmm?" He questioned absently.

"Well, I should be able to get the whole thing online… I can get everything online… but it would appear there is only three copies in the world, and two of them are owned by some billionaires. The third is missing." I pursed my lips, noting Holmes sitting up in thought, elbows on knees, head on his entwined fingers. "I can't even get the contents of the book, which is really weird. Normally I can just read a whole book off of a website. The only thing they give me are some clues of where to find it." I sat back, brows together.

"And they present themselves as..?" He asked, making me roll my eyes.

"Just some words."

"What are they?" He pressed.

"Cliff, Mountain, Heart, Soul." I looked to him, only to see him smirk, leaning back easily. "What does that mean?" I asked, hoping I could get him out of here fast if he knew where to find the book.

"It means, woman, that I was sent here for a purpose." He chuckled some, making me growl.

"What dose it mean?" I asked once more, only to have him look at me the same he looks at a puzzle. With glee.

"It means Moriarty took your book for a reason. I'm here for a game of his." I groaned as he said this.

"Meaning your gonna be here for awhile." Yeah, next time I make a wish, I'll make sure not to be so vague.


	3. Halloween Oneshot

**JUST FYI, this has NOTHING to do with the story. Just a Halloween oneshot I had a dream about. Well technically it was about Iron Man, but I think it would fit this story better.**

**NEED TO KNOW: This takes place back to when Lara was back in the 1800's. Sorta like a flashback.**

**

* * *

**

I looked up in thought as Holmes scurried about my house, some things banging and some slams every now and then.

"Do you remember the Halloween I spent with you?" I asked, only to hear something break.

"Yes." He said as he rushed in front of me, and began to look under the couch.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I lifted my legs up, putting them on his back as he looked under the seat I was sitting on.

"Nothing." He grumbled as my feet feel to the floor as he stood, going up the stairs. I shook my head, thinking about that horrid night…

* * *

"I expected Holmes to be the one to try and get me. Not you John." I said as I entered Holmes room, throwing the fake spider over to the smirking John.

"How'd you know it was me?" He asked as he looked back to the paper, legs crossed.

"Because it wasn't thought through. Knowing Sherlock," As I said this, he looked away, head in the air. "It would be scarier and way elaborate. And besides, if he did try to do that, it would be precise. Land on eye level instead of neck level." With that I sat down on the couch, holding onto myself. Damn, it is cold!

"You didn't even flinch." Holmes said, plucking at his violin.

"I grew up with gangsters. A spider isn't going to make me scream, non-the-less flinch." I muttered, stretching out.

"Oh really?" Holmes muttered, propping his legs up on the table, plucking a eerie tune.

"Well, I grew up on the belief of the paranormal. Shaky stuff it is." Watson said, sighing. There was a moment of silence before Holmes shot up, placing his violin down and grabbing his coat before rushing out the door.

"I hate it when he dose that." Watson muttered, shaking his head.

"Are you sure about this…" I muttered as we walked down the sidewalk, the October wind blowing as the moon was out. I had to admit, I was a bit spooked out, being as there was no one on the streets, and the buildings howled with the wind.

"With him, I never am. He just told us to check out a old house whilst he goes in search for the owners." He stopped and turned to the building. I did the same, both of us looking up at it with wide eyes. "Uhmmmm…" He cleared his throat, holding his arm out. "Ladies first." I glared at him, but grabbed my courage up, jogging up the stairs and stopping at the door.

"This is _soooooo_ illegal." I muttered to him, as I kicked the door in. Watson let out a little sound as he jumped back against the stoop railing, me rolling my eyes as a bunch of black cats ran out the now open door. I looked to Watson with a smirk, as he merely cleared his throat, straightening his waist coat and walking past me into the house. As I walked in, I noticed how dark it was. The only light was coming from in-between the wood boards from outside and the door. Which creaked and slammed shut, both Watson and I staring at it. "I have a bad feeling about this." I muttered as I began to look around the small living area. "What did he say we are doing?" I asked, checking the dust to see if there were any footprints.

"He just said there was a murder here a client wanted him to check out. It was over 40 years ago, but the women swears she still hears screams and walking of sorts around…" Watson said, opening a old book lying on an old foot stool. "Some kids while back ago come in here for a good fright. Said they heard crying of a little girl, but there was no sign of anyone. A man came by here couple years ago, and saw blood dripping from the ceiling, coming from the master bedroom." As he said this, something fell upon my head and I sighed, looking up to see a red stain. Droplets coming down.

"Well. That part is true at least."

"Hm?" Watson asked, but froze as he stared up at the red stain. "Dear… Lord…" I rolled my eyes, going over to the stairs. "Where are you going?" He whispered harshly, not moving from his spot.

"I bet this is a ruse Holmes put on for us. You know how he loves a good prank, and what better day then Halloween?" Watson looked at me and I smirked. "Come now. I bet he told you a tall tale?" He sighed, looking away.

"He said a man went mad here, after he reported of something being in this house. He killed his wife by shooting her, then hung himself, all in front of his little girl who hid in the closet." A chill went down my spine as cold air hit me. I shook my head and looked up the stairs. "Well, I'm not sure about you but I won't indulge him." He said, walking to the door.

"I want to see how far he went." I muttered going up the stairs but freezing. There was a chilling cackle that went all around the house, then footsteps that seemed to be everywhere at once. As I slowly turned my head to look at Watson, who was frozen with his hand on the handle, We heard an eerie cry, coming from a little girl we could not see. Then, out of no where, one of the window shutters slammed open then shut. Watson was gone then, to afraid to stay. "Tch. Pansy." I muttered, hiding how skittish I now was. I walked up the steps, everything growing colder and dead silent. Oh how I wish I was always good to my word. I had to prove Holmes wrong, show him I wasn't afraid of his pretend game… Hopefully… "Sherlock!" I yelled as I reached the master bedroom, only to hear the crying again. "Sherlock! This game is dumb. You got Watson! Not me though!" I continued, but nothing happened. I got a horrid chill as I put my hand on the doorknob. "This isn't funny anymore…" I chocked out as best as I could when I heard slamming below me. I opened the door, holding up the lantern I almost forgot I had. There was but only a master bed and a window in the room. As I walked in some more, My lantern went out and the door slammed shut, making me jump, heart racing. "Sh-Sherlock?" I muttered, cursing myself as I began to fall for his games. Not this time I won't! I began to fumble around, finding my matches and re-lighting the lantern, only to jump back, letting out a thrill. A women lay on the floor, blood pooling into the floor boards. A man was hanging from the ceiling, a rope around his neck as he was moving around in circles. A girl was crying in the only other doorway. I stared at all of this, body shaking as I began to back up. "No… No way…" I stared at all of it, then closed my eyes, body shaking as my breaths came in fast. "This is unreal…AHH!" I screamed loudly as I bumped into something, only sighing as it was a wall. "Shit… I'm losing it. Yes! None of this is here. I just have been here so long I've lost my mind…" I backed up once more, only to bump into something solid. A arm encircled around my waist as a hand clamped around my mouth, me screaming into it as I thrashed about the captors hold. Oh god! I'm gonna die a stupid death! Some stupid ass ghost is gonna rip me to parts!

"You can't lose what you never had…" A deep voice said in my ear, me only registering it a bit after. I froze once I recognized it, eyes narrowing. I'm going to kill him. As I bit into his hand, him in turn letting me go, I turned on my heel, glaring at none other then Sherlock Holmes.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" I growled, as he merely smiled innocently. He wore his normal jacket and hat, eyes not so much as burning, but way too amused, a small, smug smile upon his tan face.

"You see, I figured you would become chilled if I put the right touch to everything." he looked to me then, eyes smiling. I glared, but couldn't help to feel warm as a sort of fondness that lay in those brown depths.

"How in the hell did you even pull all of it off? And was Watson in on it?" He looked away then, and I froze, eyes wide. "He hadn't a clue. Which means…" I looked to the window, a bit guilty. Poor John, getting such a scare for no reason.

"Anyway!" He said, looking back to me, as I at him.

"How'd you pull it all off anyway?" I muttered, looking at the dead bodies and listening to the crying girl. He smirked, walking over and jumping up on the bed, hands behind his back.

"Why, it's elementary!" He shouted, and I wanted to tell him to shut up, but decided he was having too much fun. He let's be box, so might as well let him have his own fun. "Dummies for the bodies," He tapped the guy hanging on the rope, only for me to hear a sort of hollowness to it. "Red ink mixed with corn syrup for blood," I looked down to the dead women, looking down at the blood. "And a new device I created!" he reached up to the only light in the room, though not turned on, and pulled out a black box. "It records sounds." He threw it to me and I caught it, sighing as it was the sound for the crying girl. As I turned it off, he jumped off, landing in front of me.

"How about the door slamming?" I asked, making him huff.

"Easily done. When I knew you both were inside, I calculated air pressure. So, since that door was open, this door was closed. As I opened this door, the front door shut with a resounding slam." I nodded at his explanation. Made sense.

"Now for the tough question. Why do this at all?" He smiled broadly, turning me around as his arm went around my waist, leading me to the door.

"For one: To prove you aren't as solid as you think," I glared at him, and he smiled as he grabbed the doorknob. "And two: because I was bored!" As he opened the door and I looked forward, I nearly ran away. Instead, I curled into Holmes's body, hands clutching at his shirt, head buried into his chest. When I heard and felt his deep chuckle, I slowly looked around to find a… Fake… Spider… Goddamn it… "All too easy." As I looked back up to him, our eyes locked. I was still clutched to him, and he seemed to have wrapped his arms around me sometime ago. As a chilling air went by, I dug my face into his neck, him not stopping me in the least. After a moment, I heard a girl crying.

"Very funny Holmes." I muttered into his neck. As it continued, I pulled back, looking at him. He was starring at a wall, brows together. "Holmes?" I muttered, but he didn't move. As I listened, the crying was way to creepy. It sounded as if it had two tones, one stuck here and the other in the otherworld. It echoed oddly, as if it were in my mind. "Holmes…" His eyes flicked to me, and in that moment I knew he had nothing to do with this.

"I'll be right-"

"No." I growled, grabbing onto his hand and dragging him out of the house.

"But I need to find-"

"No you don't."

"There has to be an ex-"

"No there doesn't." I kept it to the point and he finally complied when all the shuttered began to bang around to house. In fact, he entwined our fingers and began a run, both of us getting out of there real quick.

* * *

I smiled at the thought. It was both a good and bad night.

"Did you ever figure out what made that sound?" I yelled, only to hear loud banging. I looked over to see him sitting against the door, blinking.

"I'm okay." He muttered, standing and cracking his neck, walking over to the open French doors, looking around the joining dinning room/kitchen, hands on hips. "No. I deleted it." My brows came together.

"You what?"

"Never mind." He groaned, walked over and sitting in the chair next to me, head on his hand.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, shaking my head.

"My pipe woman! It has but vanished into thin air!" He cried, throwing his arms in the air.

"Stop being a drama queen. Did you check downstairs?" He paused, glancing at me lightly. In a flash he was gone, and I smirked. I took his pipe out from my flannel jacket pocket, looking at it. "Pay back's a bitch."


	4. Odd one

"Woman!" I groaned, rolling over to face the wall. "Woman!"

_If I just ignore him he'll go away_ I thought, knowing it was full well a lie.

"Woman! You can sleep when dead! Get down here at once!" I dug my head into the pillow. Three days. Three days and he was already grating on my nerves. "I swear I shall come up there!" Yeah, that got me. I groaned once more, getting up and throwing my pillow at the wall.

"Coming oh glorious one." I yelled, trotting down the stairs. He met me once down, a crazy look in his eyes. "What do you want now?" He narrowed his eyes, making me sigh.

"For one, where have you put my pipe this time?"

"In the fireplace." I muttered, leaning against the banister.

"Very well." He muttered, a new gleam in his eye. "Now, this infernal beast refuses to allow me to rest! I've been at it for hours!" He threw his hands up, turning his back to me as he walked around the couch. I smiled, looking down some. I walked around, following him. "This beast is most foul! I say, what shall we do?" He asked, and I smirked. A cat laid on top of my couch, tail curled around itself lightly flicking. Pitch black, with wide green eyes, looking over to me. "Being if I were a man to believe in tom foolery, I would say it is a sign of bad luck! I say we- woman!" He grabbed onto my wrist as I walked past him towards the cat, me turning to look at him blankly. "This infernal beast will rip you to parts!" I smirked slightly, making his brows come together.

"And why do you care?" He froze, then let me go scuffing.

"Fine then. I shall watch as you get pulverized." He looked the other way, making me roll my eyes. As I walked over to the cat, my back burned telling me his attention was on me fully. As I reached the couched I extended my hand to the cat, smiling.

"Hey there Binks." The cat mowed and ran up my arm, even though it was a fairly large cat, and rested along my shoulders, tail curled around my neck. As I turned, Holmes stared at me to the cat with angry eyes.

"Woman. Explain!" I sighed, as the hissed some.

"This here is Zachary Binks. Stray cat that took a liking to me." As I said this, Binks purred, making Holmes inhaling, puffing his chest out. "He hates everybody else. Odd, but I don't complain." I said, walking past him, around the couch. As I got to the door, which was right in front of the stairs, the doorbell went off. I sighed, looking down at myself. Black pajama pants and a crude shirt of a punk band… Sure, why not? Binks jumped off my shoulders, stopping Holmes from sitting down as he hissed on the top of it. He howled, throwing his hands up in the air as he went through the open French doors, saying something about at least being able to feed his self. I shook my head, opening the door to see it was a beautiful fall morning. A man turned around, smiling some.

"Uhh, yes… Is the lady of the house in?" I rolled my eyes.

"Don't want any."

"No! No. I, uh, saw the ad in the paper, about splitting house fee's?" My brows shot up as a loud crash came from the back.

"Oh shit! So sorry man. Uh, yeah." I cleared my throat as Holmes stayed oblivious, trying to figure out how to cook something. "My name is Lara, and yeah. Need a roommate to help with the fees." He looked me up and down, me sighing. "Yeah, I know I'm young. Don't worry if you want to run off now. Most people do anyways." He shook his head, putting on the smile.

"Well, I really haven't got a choice, no offense."

"Non-taken."

"Right. Well, it looks to be in top shape, but from what I hear, someone else is already living here besides you?" I winced as Holmes yelled, another bang being heard. "I thought you only needed one roommate?" I cleared my throat some, thinking on my toes.

"Yes, well, I took him in out of friendship. Can't pay fro much with just a free-lance writer and a jobless detective."

"_Consulting_ detective!" He shouted, making me sigh. Of course he was listening. Within the three days he has been here, he has been trying to locate policemen that would let him be on cases. Oddly enough, everyone thought he was mad. Perish the thought!

"A.. So… Like Sherlock Holmes? From the books?" There was a silent pause, but was soon passed as sizzling could be heard.

"Yeah… Sort of…" I muttered, clearing my throat.

"Well. This may sound off, but there is a Lt. Detective Lestrade that has asked for help on a case. It's rather serious, and no one can figure it out." Another pause before Holmes broke it by a crashing sound.

"Thank you! Mr….?" I asked, brows together as I held my hand out. His eyebrows shot up as he removed the cane he was holding in his right hand.

"Another strange coincidence. Watson. John Watson." I froze as he said this, me fully taking him in. He was about a inch or so taller then me, with short, dirty, blond hair and dark blue eyes. I felt a radiating kindness, yet caution. Just like my Watson… I looked behind me only to catch Holmes's head poking from the doors, analyzing the man. He then disappeared, only to reappear, actually walking out, standing behind me being as there was a small space between the back of the couch and the hand-railing from the stairs/the wall. "Yes, I know. But I am supposed to be related to the original one, so my parents thought it would be cool if I was named after my how ever many great grandpa." I looked back ot Sherlock, who merely had his calculating look on, brown eyes cold. I cleared my throat, looking back up to the man named John.

"Uhh. John. This is Sherlock." John looked down at me, then back up at the man. "Holmes…." After a moment of silence, he sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Very funny. I get that a lot actually." As he said this, Holmes pushed me and stood in front of me, pulling something out of his pants pocket.

"Not a joke my good friend. See? Says here 'Sherlock Holmes'." I looked around his shoulder to stare at the little piece of plastic.

"Wow… This is quite… Odd." There was a moment of silence before I cleared my throat, both of them looking at me.

"Right then. So, would you like to come on and see the house? Maybe have some break-"

"Right!" Holmes said, pushing past me once more, rushing into the kitchen. Watson looked to me, and I sighed.

"Yeah. He dose that."


	5. Elements and Time

"How in the _hell_ did you get a license?" I growled, leaning forward in my seat. John had just gone upstairs to take a look, as well as go to the bathroom.

"Well I can't very well go around this place without an I.D. now can I?" he said, sitting back in the couch, crossing his legs. I groaned, holding my hand into a fist as I resisted the urge to kill him.

"I didn't ask _why_ you idiot! I asked _how!"_ He sniffed, looking away from me.

"My dear Lady. I may be out of my time, but I am not out of my element." There was a pause as he said this, my anger boiling.

"What the fuck dose that mean?" I said, staring at him. He sighed and looked over to me.

"What I mean is, just because this is a new time, doesn't mean I don't know how to work people. Actually, it's easier here." He muttered more to himself then me. I groaned some, leaning back as I put a hand to my neck for a split second, be for I dropped it onto my lap.

"Can I at least ask how you got it?" I muttered, not looking at him.

"Why, it was rather elementary." I smiled in the slightest. I would _never_ admit it to him, but I did rather miss him… "Whilst you sleep the night and most of the day away at that, I walk around. I've always known my surroundings, and nothing will change that." I sighed finally, looking over to him. "A women, yesterday morning at exactly 9:32 PM, was calling for her dog. Seeing as how I hadn't a case in a long time, I decided to help her out. Approximately 12 minutes later, I found the poor beast in a trash can 50 meters from where she had lost it." He took a sip of water, then looked to me. "I asked her then, after a small reward, where the nearest town square was. Once she directed it to me, I found there A pawn shop and a drivers place." My brows came together as he paused, staring at me with burning brown eyes. As if he were waiting…

"Wait." I said, holding my hand up. "Why did you need a pawn shop?" He smiled then, leaning back and looking forward.

"It would appear that bank cards here are very valuable. And even more so when they are signed in the names of 'Sherlock Holmes' , "Lt. Detective Lestrade', and 'Dr. John Watson'." I stared at him as he simply hid his smile.

"Holmes… How much money did you get?" He merely smirked, glancing at me. "What do you think Ol'boy?" He said, looking to the stairs as Watson came down.

"It's very nice. Very nice indeed." He said, coming around and sitting in the armchair part of the couch, closest to the French doors opening into the dinning room/kitchen.

"I must inquire whether you enjoy the Sherlock Holmes books." Holmes said, making me shoot a horrified look his way.

"Actually, I do enjoy them." John said, making me groan. Oh God. Please. Pretty please shoot me? NO! Wait. Shoot Holmes. Yes. I like that idea better.

"Have you read the last one?" Holmes inquired, leaning back smirking as I shook my head. I hate him. So. Much.

"I have not. Though, my mother has her own ideas on what happened to Sherlock." With this said, Holmes smiled, leaning forward.

"Do tell ol'boy."

"She says the device Watson briefly saw on Holmes's jacket before falling off the cliff was the same device to bring Luck to and fro the future." I looked between Holmes and John, body tensed.

"So, you mean this thing?" I slapped my hand to my forehead as Holmes took out the small remote. There was a defining silence which the only sound was me hitting my hand against my forehead.

"That… Your Lara?" John said blankly. I groaned, shooting a glare at the back of Holmes's head.

"Yeah…" I muttered darkly. Another silence, as I looked to John. He looked between us, brows furred.

"So that makes you guys…_The_ Sherlock and Lara?" Holmes smiled once more and I nodded sadly. "I have to ask. Did you guys.. You know.. Ever-"

"No!" We both said at the same time. I closed my eyes, heart racing as I remembered his searing kiss. The way his touch made my body react in harsh, delicious ways.

"Sorry. Just had to know." He said, leaning back and looking at the fireplace. "So… All of this is real?" Both of us nodded and John sighed, smiling some. "Incredible."

"Not by far." Holmes said, cutting into John's statement. "This is all a plan by Moriarty. Seeing as how you are related to none other then my good friend, and you just happened to find us, you are now apart of his scheme. As of now, you are under my protection." There was a pause that was only broken by me bursting into laughing. Both of them looked at me, John confused whilst Holmes's was annoyed.

"Dude! Your gonna die then!" After a moment, they turned back to each other, me still laughing in the back.

"So, how about that Lestrade you told me about eh?"


	6. Job?

"Three suicide deaths?" Holmes muttered, staring up at the man named Lestrade. There was a press interview going on, him talking about these deaths that are somehow connected. I looked up to Holmes, who slowly smiled, eyes bright.

"Don't get too happy yet." I muttered, making him grunt at me. "You don't even know if he'll let you-" He sent a knowing look at me and I sighed. "Fine. Whatever." I muttered, crossing my arms.

"Why exactly am I here?" John asked with a sigh, looking over to Holmes.

"I need an assistant, if you care for some more deaths Doctor." Holmes said, doing a quick once over of John. "Afghanistan or Iraq? He asked, making me smirk. Same thing he asked the original Watson.

"Uhh, Afghanistan…" John muttered, looking over to Holmes, who only looked back to Lestrade. "How did he know that?" John whispered down to me, and I only sighed.

"That's Sherlock for ya." I muttered, missing Holmes looking down at me with a smirk. Once the conference was over and people were dispersing, I looked to Holmes, brows together. "Alright, so what's you plan?" I asked, and he looked away. Both John and I stared at him for long moments as he merely decided to look at the ceiling. "You don't have one do you?"

"Time to press on!" he said, turning on his heels and walking briskly away. I groaned, slamming a hand to my forehead.

"He really is the real Sherlock Holmes…. Isn't he?" John asked, a bit confused. I guess the books make Holmes seem a bit more collected then he really is…

"Yeah. You get use to it… Sometimes." I muttered, walking after Holmes.

* * *

"What are you?" A women at a desk asked, biting back her laughter. I was looking away, hands in my pockets behind and to the right side of Holmes as John was to his left.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes, and I believe I can be of service to Detective Lestrade on this case." There was a pause and I glanced at the black women behind the desk, as she stared up at Holmes.

"Psych word is two blocks down the street." She said and I snorted some, only to have Holmes glare back at me.

"Care for me to prove it?" He asked, talking to the women once more.

"Go for it." She muttered, going back to typing on her computer. I glanced at Holmes, to see him do a quick once over, a small smirk on his lips.

"Your single, but seeing someone. You spent the night at his house last night. You have 3 siblings; two older brothers and a younger sister. You have a small garden, most likely under the kitchen window, where you grow vegetables and some flowers." She froze, staring at the screen blankly.

"What are you? Some kind of stalker?" She asked, glaring at Holmes, who only stood up straight, hands behind his back.

"Being as how I do tend to do that on some cases, I have not spied on you. Simply deduced." She stared at him and I sighed, knowing this was a bad idea.

"Alright freak. Go on in." My mouth dropped as Holmes stood straighter, smirking as he made a noise of approval. He turned to smirk down at me, walking into the office.

* * *

"Told you." I said with a smirk as I sat on the couch.

"Don't worry dear lady, He shall come to me when he is out of his depth." Holmes said as he sat next to me. John sat in one of the chairs connected to the couch, looking at us. There was a moment of silence before he said something.

"So, you guys really have never-"

"No." Holmes and I said, cutting him off. There was another silence and I cleared my throat.

"So, uh… what do you say doctor?" I asked as he looked around, thinking.

"I think this is the most ridicules thing I've ever heard of…" He then looked to me, his eyes going between Holmes and I. "I'm in."


	7. Makeover

"Alright, while he's busy, what do you think?" I asked Watson, me on the chair part of the couch while he was on the long part. "I know he says you don't have a choice, but don't listen to him." I muttered, only to have him smile.

"I think I'll take it." I smiled as he said this.

"Very good. Now, just a few rules."

"Of course." He said with a nod, blue eyes shining.

"Do not leave your cell phone out." His brows came together at this rule. "Leave your door locked if not in it. Keep your keys on you at all times and try to indulge his... Habits..." I muttered, only to have him clear his throat.

"I'm not sure I understand..." He muttered, making me smile.

"Sherlock Holmes is as deranged as they say in the books. I've only done this as an example for you. I left my door open, and he is in there right now looking for somthing."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. If he finds anything he'll shout." As if on cue, I was summoned.

"Woman! Woman what is this?" He asked, coming down the stairs and holding up a box. I sighed, raising an eyebrow at Watson before answering Holmes.

"It's a smoking patch." His brows came together as he came around the couch, sitting in the chair next to me.

"What the duce dose it do?" He asked, making me sigh.

"I've quit smoking. Those inject a stream of nicotine into the blood stream to take the edge off." I said, rolling my sleeve up to show him a patch on my forearm.

"That explains why I can't find any tobacco in this hell hole!" He growled, making me sigh.

"Well, I anticipate your return. We'll talk coasts once your all settled." With that he nodded, shaking my hand and retreating, going outside. "And you!" I said, making him look at me with a queer look. "You need new clothes and a shower! You stick out like a sore thumb." He looked down at his white, dirty shirt, with trousers and suspenders that hung at his waist. "I have a shirt and pants you can use for now until I get to shopping later today. " He sniffed some, standing and going back upstairs. I followed behind, grabbing a black shirt and black pants from my room, throwing them to him. "And stay out of my room." I growled, grabbing the box, slamming my door in his face. "I swear that man will be the death of me..."

* * *

"I dear say, these are most comfortable." Holmes said as I drove down the road. I glanced at him, jaw clenching. he looked good... Like, really good. He had shaved, so his face was clean, hair tousled messily about his head and clothes fresh. He bore a plain black shirt that clung to his body, same with the black jeans. He looked like a proper... I don't even know. "I can see why you love this era so. Such freedom!" He said, making me sigh.

"Hey, you never told me how much money you got for those bank cards." I asked, only to have him smile.

"I must ask, is 100,000 a lot?" I stopped the car, only to have a loud, blaring horn go off behind me. I cleared my throat, continuing down the winding road.

"How in the hell did you get that much? Where did you even put it?" I asked, stopping at the stop sign.

"Where do people normally put that much money? In the bank of course!" I began to fume as he said this, continuing onto Wal*mart and parking. "I think being away from me so long as made you lose site of normal reasoning." He muttered more to himself, but I, of course, heard him.

"Sherlock."

"Hm?"

"Get out."

*Sherlock's POV*

After many arguments, I finally was able to get her to leave me at the 'Store' as she called it. Well, she actually called it Walt Mart? Walter Mart? Who knows. It was for a plausible reason why I asked her to leave me. She was right, I did stick out like a sore thumb. If Moriarty was around in this time, then he would be waiting for me. Why not do what I do best, and blend in? Using the debit card I got, I bought plenty of shirts and pants, mainly dress pants. Along with a couple of jackets. As I looked around the rather large shop, I found a place that does hair. Running a hand through my messy curls, I sighed. It would appear short hair was for this era. With haste, I entered the hair place, where they sat me down and began to cut away. Once done, they 'styled' it as they called it, it now short standing to the heavens. Once paid for and out, I saw a phone store. With a smirk, I walked across the street.

*Normal POV*

I sat in my little green Saturn, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "I knew I shouldn't have left him alone." I growled, looking all around. "Probably off thinking he's solving some case."

"I don't think, I do." He said, entering the car. As I turned to yell at him, I froze. If I thought he looked good before, I was _sorely_ wrong. He now wore a leather jacket with the collar popped. His once long, messy hair was short, spiked upwards. As he glanced at me, smirking, I couldn't help but look away, stomach churning. "So, do I look the part of a 21st century citizen?" I started the car, masking the sound of me clearing my throat.

"Look it, but don't sound it." He turned to me confused as I stated this, making me sigh. "You sound like an 18th century English man." As I looked over to him, he gave me a blank look.

"I am."

"Exactly. Try sounding more... I dunno. American?"

"So, I must act brashly, with no self-respect?" I went to open my mouth to retort, then shut it.

"Yeah..."


	8. Nightmare

_*Sherlock's POV*_

_I stopped, breathing heavily and looking around. It was hard to keep my eyes open with the wind blowing hard and the rain pouring down, but that didn't stop me. I cursed the terrible landscape of Georgia. London wasn't as hilly and damn near easier to track someone. As I ran up a large hill, I stopped at the top, lungs heaving as I tried to breath through the icy ran and howling wind. I licked my lips, a car speeding by making me look across the highway as she called it. My brows came together as I looked over the railing to see a empty lot, a familiar car parked under a street light. With powered steps I ran across the highway, glad it was 3 in the morning so no cars. With as much grace as I could manage in my haste, I put both my hands on the railing, hopping over it and rolling the small amount of land before I fell a good bit, rolling once more when I reached the pavement. I shook my head, staying low in the dark, away form any of the lights as I scanned the area, eyes narrowed as I tried to see through the on going rain. I noted quickly that it was also icing with the rain, making everything slushy on the ground, making it even harder to keep my footing. My eyes locked onto the green car, Lara leaning against the side and looking down. I stood, holding a hand to my hair, which was wet and icing over. With a sigh, I walked up to the car, leaning my back against it, arm almost touching hers._

"_What, you following me now?" She asked, voice monotone._

"_No. You wore your red jacket which you never wear. That tells me you were going to do something in which you didn't care what happened to it. With the conditio-" As she looked over to me I looked away. "Yeah, I followed you." I muttered, making her smile a hollow one, looking back down. We stayed silent for awhile, me unsure of what to say, if anything at all. Women… Scared me sometimes. I can honestly say I would never understand them._

"_Today's my birthday." She said, sniffing as she looked up, blinking against the rain. _

"_I may not be one for normality's, but does that not entail to be happy?" I asked, only to have her laugh. _

"_Yeah… It does." Another silence passed up, until I finally looked over and down at her. "It's also the anniversary of the death of my parents." I stared down at her, brows together. How can this one girl go through so much. She's lived a life with no family or friends, was thrown into a world not her own, stuck with me, plots of murder against her, and now I find out normally someone's best day is her worst. "They say it was a car crash, but when I arrived, just in time to see them be put in the ambulance, I saw some bullets smashed in and bloody… But, when I told someone, they were gone. Taken. No one ever believed me." she said, sniffing once more._

"_I do." I murmured, only to have her look at me incredulously. "Think about it. You have been monitored your whole life. Your parents death were probably planned." _

"_By who?" She asked, and I looked forward._

"_I don't know, but you can be sure I will find out." She stared at me and I looked over to her, showing how determined I was. It wasn't just a puzzle for me to solve, nor was it even a matter of getting back to my own time. I wanted this done, so she could finally have peace. _

"_You don't ha-"_

"_I don't have to do anything, yeah, I know." I said, getting off the car and standing in front of her, putting my hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were red, face pale, body shivering. This woman, so small and fragile, seemed to have somehow break past my barriers. I actually care. No, not care, wrong word. I adore her. I'm infatuated and confused. "But I want to do this… For you." I added, before pulling her in for a hug. I tucked her head under my chin as I pulled her as close as possible, my arms wrapped around her. I shielded her as best as I could from the icy, rain and wind, whilst she gripped onto my shirt, body quivering with tears. After miles of running, lungs stinging from the ice, and a emotional storm that has left me quaking, and only wearing jeans and a tight black t-shirt, it was suddenly worth it all. I closed my eyes, enjoying how she fit to me, before I realized what I was doing. "Don't get too excited. This counts as your Christmas gift." I said, only to have her laugh and pull back slightly, looking down at my torso as he hand ran down the muscles lightly. _

"_I can deal with that." I swallowed as she looked up at me, long hair clinging to her. She still kept the odd style of the blond bangs swept to her left, with long, black hair. It fit her spit fire personality. "But that leaves me to ask, being as how it's so close, who do you want for Christmas?" I smiled and looked up in thought._

"_Oh, I dunno. There really isn't anything I want." I said, smirking down at her. _

"_Don't play that shit. There has got to be something you want." I looked away, trying to stop my smile. _

"_Well," I looked down at her then, sliding my hands to her hips. "I'm sure I can come up with something." I said with a small smile. She stared at me for a minute, until I began to lean down. Her body curled up to mine, making me shiver. With our faces nearly touching, my body on fire despite the hypothermia I knew I must be going through. This woman must surly be the death of me. _

"_Sherlock…" She whispered, me closing my eyes as I inhaled her scent. "We can't do this…" She murmured, setting something off. No. I'm here, she's here. That's all that matters. Last time I was too late, and I've only held off so long now because of pride. I'm tired of it now. All that matters is right here, right now. At that, I decided to make my point clear, pining her to the car. She gasped, tempting me with her mouth so close to mine. When her arms snaked up my torso and to my neck, I tilted my head and closed my eyes, pressing my lips to hers. With some difficulty from her side, I was finally able to get her to kiss back. Our mouths moved in synch, as if we have done this dance a hundred times. My grip on her hips tightened as I pinned her even harder between me and the car, sneaking my tongue into her mouth. If allowed, I would be here for the rest of my life._

"_Sherlock…"_

* * *

I jolted, sitting up and looking around breathing hard. After a minute I let my head fall back upon the pillow, staring up at the pale ceiling. This had not been the first dream I've ad like this. In fact, as time moved on, I get them more often then desired. But this dream, it was different. I remember some time ago, she had said she thought her parents were murdered. She never went into any details. Is that what really happened? And if so, how could I possibly know it, none the less dream it?

"You alright?" Lara said, coming out of the kitchen a bowl in her hand. I looked over to her, not saying a word. She had a spoon in her hands, chewing lightly, telling me she was eating cereal. As her brows came together, I couldn't help but fully realize how deep I was. How could I, the great Sherlock Holmes, fall in love? Sure, I love Irene, but that is more of a lust. She challenged me, was even able to outsmart me two times. She intrigued me, but that was all. Lara on the other hand, I knew everything about her, and yet I was still intrigued. I felt like a magnet, truly unable to control my attraction to this woman.

"Just a… Nightmare."


	9. Anger and Lies

**Hey, disclaimer here. Jus' wanna say that I took a lot of the ideas for this upcoming case from the Sherlock series from BBC.**

* * *

I grunted, doing my 34th upside down curl up.

"I always knew you worked out far-more then you let on." I groaned, falling back down, glaring at the wall. I hung upside down from my legs on a bar I put in my doorway.

"What do you want?" I asked, not being able to see him since I face the inside of my room.

"What? Must I always want something when I speak to you?" He asked, me just sighing as I pulled up, only to have him walk under me, going over to my desk and sitting in the chair, crossing his legs and raising a brow. I went back down, looking over to him.

"Yes." With that I went back up and down once more.

"This stagnation is rotting my brain!" he finally said, me rolling my eyes. "I dear say, this new Lestrade is taking his time! I would have at least thought he would be here before someone else dies." he muttered.

"So, you bored. That means you can bother me whilst I work out?" I asked, looking over to him as he looked away quickly.

"Yes."

"Joy."

"Why did you quit smoking?"

"It's bad for your health."

"Why do you work out so hard?"

"So no one can ever take advantage of me."

"What are you studying in college?"

"Optometry."

"Who's the boy that courts you."

"Lance." I said, but froze, eyes wide. I was doing push ups now, and every time I came up he asked me a question. I looked slowly over to him, he still sitting in the chair, now a smug smirk on his face. "You tricked me!" I said, sitting on the floor now, face red from expurgation and embarrassment.

"I did no such thing!" He said, fake offended. "I simply asked you a question and you answered." I groaned, hitting my palm to my forehead. Ever since he got here, I've been doing that at an increasingly fast rate. "So, when shall I met this Lance?" He asked, making glare up at him slowly.

"You're not!" He put on a sad face then, making me roll my eyes.

"And why not?"

"Because you like to screw things up! Take John and Mary for instance!" I said, only to have him look away, sniffing. Before I could say anything else, I heard a car door, making my brows come together. John was at work, so it couldn't be him. I stood and walked over to my window, eyes going wide as I saw none other then Lance walking down my driveway. "Sherlock." I growled, turning to him as he simply looked at the wall. "What did you do?" He smiled, standing and putting his hands behind his back.

"I simply took the liberty of texting the man." I stared at him, insides burning.

"Why? Why in the _hell_ would you do that?" I hissed, only to have his eyes grow cold and calculating.

"Because I find it interesting."

"What? That I moved on?" He seemed taken back by this, but recovered easily.

"No. That not only you don't want me to see him, but that _you_ yourself do not want to see him." I opened my mouth some, then closed it. We stared at each other for awhile, before the doorbell went off.

"You can be a real ass sometimes." I said, stalking out of the room and going down the stairs.

*Sherlock's POV*

I sat on the couch, eyes looking at the tv but not seeing anything. Something wasn't right. I was able to get a glimpse of the man courting Lara, watching them out the window as they got into a huge black truck. He was at the least 6'3", short spiky black hair, black shirt and blue pants. He was twice my size, muscles bulging. I sighed, closing my eyes, head on my entwined fingers, elbows on my legs. I couldn't place it, but there something going on with the man named Lance.

"You looking for more cases?"

"Hm?" I questioned, not really listening, eyes still closed.

"The murder on the news?" I inhaled then, eyes opening. Watson sat on the recliner, grunting as he rubbed his leg.

"No, I all ready know who killed Mr. Brewick." I said, sitting up straight. "Just thinking Ol'cog." I rested my head on my hand, elbow on the arm rest.

"How could you possibly know who did it?" He asked, making me smile.

"Same way I knew you were in Afghanistan, and how you your brother left his wife and is a drunk." He stared at me and I smiled sarcastically, looking back to the large screen. "It was the gardener." He shook his head.

"How do you know that?" He questioned, making me sigh.

"Must be so nice not being me. Must be so relaxing. Look, on the corpses shoe is soil. Potting soil. He was in the greenhouse at the same time the man who takes care of the plants is. The time of death is correct, only thing they got right, but he wasn't murdered in his room. His hair is above him, shirt coming up a bit, telling me he was dragged. I'm quite certain that if they actually looked, that there will be blood under him. Dragging him in a way so the body would clean up the blood so no one would know he was moved. Now, look at his left hand." I said, pointing when they did a full body shot. "Blood under the nails. I'm sure by this time tomorrow, with this century's technology and a bit more knowledge, that they will have the killer." I finished, sniffing some.

"That… Was fantastic.." I smiled some, but soon turned as the door opened. Lara came in, going straight up the stairs.

"Good lord! What happened to your face?" Watson asked, making her stop. My brows came together as she looked away, then turned, smiling.

"Tripped over my laces and hit the corner of a wall." She said with a shrug, then went back up the stairs. I turned back around, elbows on my knees and hands entwined.

"Most engaging." I muttered, only to have Watson look to me.

"What?"

"She's lying." I stated, glancing to him.

"How can you tell?" He asked, brows together, making me smirk.

"I've known her for a long time, as you well know. I can tell when she's lying." He raised an eyebrow and I sighed. "The wound dose not fit her story. With a small cut below her eye and a bruise forming over her cheek. If she did fall as she said, the bruise would be more vertical, not flat." He looked down at that, and I continued. "In addition, she is wearing shoes with no laces."


	10. The case Begins

**Alright, remember, this case I took from the show Sherlock that is owned by BBC. So, yeah, I just added my own stuff to make it fit.**

**

* * *

**

*Sherlock's POV*

I sat watching the news as Watson read the newspaper. It was now five in the evening, the sun already starting to set. I must say, this Georgia place it quite boring. At least in London I had cases to work on. But here, I was always researching. Finding out how cars, TV's and computers work, what has happened since the 1800's, looking up unsolved murders and solving them, and, of course, looking up which school Lara goes to. I actually started that this morning when she suddenly leapt from the couch and dashed up the stairs saying she forgot about some homework. I searched her car and found a student I.D. in the glove department.

"Hey! Holmes!" Lara yelled from her room, making me sigh and Watson smirk over at me. "There's a cop car in the driveway. Whatever it is that you did, leave me out of it!" I shot up at that, watching as Lestrade walked down the porch and rang the doorbell.

"What did you do?" Watson asked, making me smile.

"Nothing this time." I walked around the couch and opened the door, raising an eyebrow. "Where?" I asked, his eyebrows coming together.

"Atlanta, the Masquerade."

"What's happened? You wouldn't have come to me unless there was something different." I questioned, only to have him sigh.

""You know how none of them left notes?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, this one did." I paused, looking away. "Will you come?"

"Not in a cop car. I'll be right behind." I said and closed the door, holding back a smile. As he drove away I smiled full out. "Yes! Ohhhh, this is good!" I said, turning on my heel and walking, but stopped and took a step back. "Lara! Your services are needed!" I walked around and began to pace in front of the TV. "Four serial suicides and now a note! Oh it must be Christmas!"

"What is it this time?" Lara asked, pulling her jacket on and walking towards me. I smiled and grabbed onto her shoulders. "Lestrade just came by and asked for my help. We must get to this place called 'The Masquerade' in Atlanta. Immediately!" She sighed and pulled out her keys.

"Come on then." She muttered and walked to the garage.

"Make yourself at home ol'chap." I said, sweeping from the room. Right as I got to the door that lead to the garage, I stopped, slowly turning on my heels and walking back. I leaned against the rim of the French door, watching as he read the newspaper. "You're a doctor. A military on at that." I said slowly, making him look up at me. "You any good?" I asked, only to have him stand, leaning on his cane.

"Very." I began to walk over to him, not really paying attention.

"I imagine you've seen a lot of terrible things. Awful deaths." I said, stopped in front of him as his face was stone.

"Yes. Far too many. Enough for a lifetime." We stood, staring at each other for a bit before I smirked.

"Want to see some more?"

"Oh God yes."

*Normal POV*

I sat in the front, Sherlock next to me and John in the back, all of us very quite. Coming from Grayson, Atlanta was a good hour away.

"Alright, you have questions. Let's have 'em shall we?" Sherlock finally said, looking in the rearview mirror at John.

"How did you know I was in Afghanistan? You just guessed 'cause your Watson was?" John asked, making me sigh.

"I never guess. I see." Holmes said, turning to look back at John. "The trimmed hair and the way you stood told me military. Your face is tanned but not above the wrists, telling me you were abroad but not sunbathing. So, that leaves me with either Iraq or Afghanistan." Holmes finished, but wasn't done. "Now, your phone." he said, and John gave it to him. "This phone is maybe 6 months old, so I know you didn't buy it. Scratches and markings as if it's been dropped or in the same pocket with change. Next parts easy." Holmes said.

"The engraving…" he muttered, looking at Holmes. The back of the phone said _To Harry Watson Love Clara_

"Yes. 'Harry Watson'. now, this is a new phone as I stated, a young mans gadget so I can easily say it's not form your father. So, that leaves brother. Now Clara! Who's Clara? With how expensive this is I'm betting wife not girlfriend. Now, if she left him he would have kept the phone. People do sentimental things like that, so, he left her. He gave you his phone which means he wants you to stay in touch. Yet, your looking for a place to live but don't go to him for help? That tells me you guys don't get along. Maybe you liked his wife, maybe you don't like his drinking." Holmes said, as I just shook my head. Once you get him going, he won't stop till he's satisfied.

"How could you possibly know Harry drinks?" Holmes chuckled.

"Yes, a bit of a shot in the dark. Where you plug your phone in is scratch marks. His hands would slip every night when he went to plug it in. You never see those marks on a sober mans phone, never see a phone without them on a drunks." With that, he gave the phone back and turned around, staring at the road ahead.

"That… was amazing." John said, only to have Holmes glance around.

"Really?"

"Yes! It was extraordinary and just… Extraordinary…" Holmes smiled then.

"That's not what people normally say." Holmes said, glancing at me as I smirked.

"And what do people normally say?"

"Piss off."


	11. Of Books and Promises

*Sherlock's POV*

I sighed as I walked down the road. The night had been…. Well, I wasn't bored. The fourth victim was a women, dressed in an alarming shade of pink, and scratched the name 'Rache' on the floor with her nails. One of the cops foolishly thought it was the German word for 'Revenge' which it is but that isn't what she was trying to convey. She was trying to spell out Rachel. Why? What's the point of that? And what was the point of killing these random people? I figured out she had a suitcase, considering she was a serial adulterer and was in town to meet up with one of her lovers. So, being as it wasn't in the building the killer must have had it, which means he drove her there. Did the people know they were being driven to their death? And if so, how did he get them to come? And how did they get the poison in them? So many questions, yet little answers. So far, all I have found was the suitcase, which I ran off to find by myself leaving me to walk back to Lara's house seeing how her and John were long gone.

By the time I got to the house, it was two in the morning. A quick check in the garage told me Lara was home, but Watson was not. Once I picked the lock, I was surprised at the sight I saw. Lara was asleep on the couch, a book on her stomach. I glanced around the room to see everything was in order, and no lurking presence was in wait. I stared at her sleeping form, another million questions in my head that revolved around her. I set the case down on a stair and walked around the couch, stopping front of Lara. I reached out, only to hear a growling. I raised a brow and casted my glance up some. Binks sat on the top of the sofa above Lara, hackles rising as I looked at it. The beast had such a fowl attitude towards me when it came to Lara. When she was out the beast would merely walk by me as if I were a spirit not there. But when she was here, and I around her? It went into a frenzy.

I stared into it's eyes, taking on it's challenge. At this point, I honestly was so frustrated with everything that I didn't want to be denied the only thing that seems to calm me. After this months exploits, I deserved to indulge. Even in just the slightest. As I stared into it's green eyes, it slowly started to stand down. First it began to lower, then it laid down. After another minute the hair on it's back went down and finally it just looked the other way, going back to sleep.

I smiled in victory, then looked back down at the main part of my frustration. The only time when someone should be at complete ease should be when they rest, but not her. From the first time I saw her, completely unconscious, her brows were together and her lips set in a firm line. Her body always tense and ready to fight. For night after night both here and in my time, I would see her profile and it never changed. She never says anything, but instead tries to play it off as if I couldn't tell. She was tormented. Of what, I do not know.

I sat down on the edge of the large wood coffee table, just looking at her. After a moment I gingerly slid the book from under her hand and looked at the cover, smiling slightly.

_Sherlock Holmes and the adventures of Lady Luck_

I shook my head. Even in the future Watson still has a way of picking at me. I flipped the book open, flipping through the pages without interest. Well, that was until I came to a page that was bended at the corner, telling me she bookmarked it. I glanced over to her, then back to the book, reading.

* * *

_I stared at my long time friend, inexplicitly aware of his own predicament that he seemed to have given himself. My natural way told me to help him, reassure him. But I knew this is not what he needed. He would just shoot me down, as he does with anything that revolves around emotions. He sat in his normal chair, picking at the old violin tunelessly as he stared blankly into the air in front of him._

"_We can still call this off." I said, looking back to my newspaper. Holmes shot his head to me then, brows together._

"_Why would I ever do that? The plan is all set and nothing can go wrong." His voice was off. Any other person wouldn't have noticed, but I did. He was reassuring me, at least trying to make it look that way. Somehow, I got the feeling those words were meant for him, as if he has been saying it for hours over and over again._

"_Whatever you say ol'chap." I said, turning a page._

"_And what does that imply?" he asked, looking back over into space as he began to pluck once more. I smiled._

"_As much as you'd like to think, I am no fool." I said, putting the paper down and looking at him, but he only looked away. "You've fallen." he froze at that. Everything about him just seemed to turn off, telling me what I thought. _

"_I'm not quite following you." he muttered, glance at me as he settled into his chair more. He did not play his infernal instrument though, telling me I struck a nerve. Good. He needs a good slap to his ego for even thinking about doing this. _

"_Don't play me Holmes." I warned and he only smirked, making me sigh. This man, my oldest friend, my mentor and my brother, was like no other. He could see through anyone in minutes, but when it came to him, he refused to deal with it. Ignorant and a masochist. "You need to tell her." I said, and his jaw clenched. _

"_I am but a man Watson. This is simply a minor inconvenience that will go away when she is out of my hair." Was his answer after ten minutes of absolute silence. I shook my head, leaning back in my chair, going back to reading the newspaper. _

"_Fine. But let someone who actually has experience in the female department tell you that keeping this," I paused a breath, seeing him look down at the floor. At least he was actually listening to me for once. "will destroy you." The door opened then, making us both look over to see Lara standing there, with her 'tank-top' as she called it, on and a pair of 'jeans'. She pursed her lips as she glared at both of us. I looked over to Holmes, only to smile. His entire focus was on her, a look in his sharp, brown eyes that I knew all too well. As much as he ignored me, love will always change a man._

"_Can we just talk about the whole dress thing?" She asked, face going from angry to pleading. Holmes only smiled at her._

"_Well, it's either a dress or nothing at all." he paused a bit, looking up as he began to play the violin once more. The man was one of the best actors I've ever seen. In one blink, he can go from morbid to nonchalant sociopath. "Actually-"_

"_Don't." I cut him off as I went back to the paper. He sighed and went back to his music. _

"_Come on! A dress- a __fancy__ dress non the less is just way to demeaning for me!" She whined, making both Holmes and I smile. Holmes then stood and walked to the window, his back to us._

"_Since when is being famine demeaning for a woman?" I glanced up to watch Lara. She was far too much like him. Even with the ability to hack into others emotions, she herself could not handle anything personal. She stared at him, almost with awe. Her normal eyes that were always lit with fire, were soft as she stared at him, as his does when he stares at her. It was so obvious that it was annoying._

"_Uh, since I was born!" She retorted, glaring at Holmes back as he went to glance at her over his shoulder. They both were very good actors. "I don't __do__ girly. And I defiantly don't do this whole damsel in distress thing that your putting me through." She continued. I smiled, looking back to the paper once again. She was indeed a very odd individual, even for someone form the future. She assured us long ago that most women in the 221__st__ century are still plenty girly and, in her words: "Worthless people who still want the absolute adoration of men at their knees 'cause they are pessimistic and completely incapable of fending for themselves'. I would presume that was first caught Holmes's attention to her was the fact that she wasn't normal. Something new and something to play with. What I figure is he fell for his own specimen. _

"_Even if that includes saving countless woman who might be raped and murdered in the future?" Holmes said, turning with a raised brow as he tempted her. They liked this game the most. They tested each other's patience, waiting for the other to break. Lara always lost with that fiery temper of hers, which I believe is what attracts him the most. He argues with her purposefully, as if it were a drug._

"_Ughhh! Not that again! You can't keep using that!" Lara pouted, which only amused Holmes more. He looked away with both of his eyebrows raised to his hairline._

"_Let's discus this over dinner shall we?" I bit back my smile as I hit behind my paper. Maybe for once, he was taking my advice. That would be a miracle in itself!_

"_Oh, dinner won't get you out of this!" Lara said, jutting her chin out. A world-wide symbol for stubborn woman Holmes told me once._

"_I never implied that now did I? I just asked if you want dinner whilst you continue to yell at me." Holmes said with ease as he took off his raggedy robe and swooped over to the desk next to Lara, grabbing his jacket. _

"_And you'll just keep ignoring me?" She asked, sending a vicious glare his way. He smiled at this, grabbing his pipe and putting in some tobacco. _

"_There, you see! You're getting it now!" Lara only sighed, looking away._

"_Fine. But I'm getting the most expensive thing." with that she walked over to her bag on the sofa, putting on a shirt and a jacket. _

"_Whatever suits your fancy." He turned to me then, lighting his pipe.. "Care to join us?" he asked, and I looked over my paper at him._

"_Not this time. Must be getting home to Mary." he rolled his eyes at that._

"_Suit yourself mother hen. Come along woman, I have stuff that I must do." With that they both left, leaving me alone with only a smile. They were both stubborn and ignorant, and I knew deep down that they would never be able to be together. It pained me for Holmes would be stuck with this. Stuck with the regret._

_

* * *

_

I closed the book, staring absently at the window behind the couch. Watson was far more keen then I'd ever anticipate. And it only furthered to frustrate me that he was absolutely right. Keeping my own feelings from Lara, always dismissing them, it destroyed me. And the regret… God, I am not a spiritual man but if I was I would have prayed for death. It only grew so much worse after the fight we had about the man that courts her. I hurt her, far more then I could ever imagine.

I closed my eyes and set the book down on the table, going back to look at her sleeping form. Watson was right on all accounts, say for one. I was never a man to back down from something I want, and I wanted her. One way or another we will be together. If not for only a second. That would be enough, for all I need is for her to tell me she forgives me. That alone would be far more grand then anything.

I reached my hand out and tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear, only to pull back instantly when my finger brushed her skin. Electricity tore through my body for that millisecond, and it wasn't entirely unwanted. In her sleep she inhaled, letting out a shaky breath. I stared at her, remembering how her touch would send fire through my body. Both of us had a harsh reaction to the others skin, but after so long I didn't even think that it would still be the same.

I reached out and slowly ran the back of my fingers down her arm. With each move tendrils of lighting shot up my arm and throughout my body. I watched with awe as her skin began to get goosebumps where my fingers touched. Her mouth opened, enticing me further. "Sherlock…" She murmured, making me freeze. No woman, not even _the_ woman has ever said my name like that.

With ease I slipped my hand into hers that laid upon her stomach. When our fingers laced her body suddenly went lax, and she exhaled almost a sigh of relief. I double checked to make sure she was still asleep, and sure enough she was. I was kneeling on the floor now, holding onto her hand as my mind rushed through so many thoughts. After what felt like both an eternity and a second, I kissed her hand, rubbing my thumb against the back of her hand. "I swear on all that I am that I will restore your sanity." With that I unlaced our hands and stood. I put the book back right as she left it, and went to the stairs picking up the pink case, waiting for Watson to come back as so I could get him to send a text.


	12. Deed Be Done

"YOU FUCKING GIT!" I yelled at Sherlock as I punched him in the nose. He leaned back and held his nose, staring at me with wide eyes as I seethed at him. He sat on the couch, just coming in. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!" I continued, but as he slowly put his hand down his eyes narrowed. Oh, God… I know that look.

"You aren't angry." he murmured and I closed my eyes. I hated him and how he is always right. I was scared shitless. I was terrified I'd lost him forever… Again. He disappeared, saying he called a cab after he tried to think of who the killer was. Lestrade and the annoying forensics guy Anderson were at my house, scolding Sherlock for hiding the pink case. I came home from school around sixish, to find them all there. As he found out the pink lady's phone was with the killer and it had a tracker on it. Once Watson said the phone was here Holmes spaced out. After that he walked out, then left in a random taxi. After that John went after him as I stayed behind with Lestrade. Thirty painful minutes later and John calls me saying Holmes caught the Killer, who just happened to be the taxi driver. John said he had almost taken the poison that killed the others. I couldn't bear it if he died.

I finally just sighed and sat next to him. "I'm tired of all this…" I muttered. "I'm tried of being kept up late thinking your going to be gone the next morning." He wrapped his arms around me, He put his head on top of mine as I rested my head on his warm chest.

"I'm not going anywhere without you." He whispered, and it shocked me more deeply then I could ever imagine. It was his tone, at how painfully serious he was.

"Holmes-"

"What happened to your arm?" he asked as he pulled back only slightly, grabbing onto my left arm. I closed my eyes as he slowly pulled my sleeve up. I know what he say. The faded scars, the fresher scars and now new burns. "Perfect circles…" he murmured, tracing my skin lightly, his cool fingers soothing the throbbing pain. I opened my eyes to watch his fingers trace over every scar, every burn, on my arm. "Why?" He asked quietly, never stopping.

"You were wrong before." I said instead, slowly looking up into his burning brown eyes. "I don't self-mutilate." I muttered, looking back down as he continued to trace my scars.

"Why are you with that disgrace of a man?" He whispered, and I looked the complete other way. As I stood he laced his fingers with mine, pulling me to him and making me sit down again, this time closer to him. "I may not understand emotions like others, but I understand logic. I know how you work and you don't do emotions. That means there is a more logical reason for all of this and unless you tell me I'll find out on my own." he paused a second, letting it all sink in.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. "Sherlock… Don't do this…" I whispered, but being as how that wasn't the answer he wanted, or a answer at all, he continued.

"You hate being weak, not being able to defend yourself. So, what reason is there to let yourself be tortured by this buffoon?"

"Sherlock…" I closed my eyes. Rage and pain and sorrow swelled me up and I was about to lose control.

"You deserve so much better."

That was it. That was the last straw. "Or really now?" I snapped, turning so I faced him on the couch. "I deserve better? Since when?" I barked, as he just looked down at me with a odd look. "I've never had a real family, I've been in gangs and shot at, I've been forced back into time to be tortured and heart broken. I've been hunted down, analyzed and used for my power and you say I deserve more?" I stood and walked to the kitchen, staring out the window above the sink. In the silence the doorbell rang out and I sighed. I heard Holmes go and get it, but no talking, then the door shut and he walked into the kitchen.

"It's addressed for us." I looked at him over my shoulder, both of us confused, then to the paper, eyes narrowed.

"Just what I needed. Another unexplained thing." I muttered and took the letter out of his hand, now facing him as I opened it.

_I grow impatient._

_4451 Skyridge _

_Be sure Holmes and yourself are alone_

_Tomorrow, 2:00 sharp or I blow a town up._

Both Holmes and I stared at it, eyes wide. "What do you think it's about?" I asked him, last confrontation forgotten as this new riddle fiddled with our minds.

"I'm not sure, but I'm guess we'll find out tomorrow…" He muttered, glancing down at me. I didn't notice we were side by side until that moment and I looked away. I didn't trust my body, nor my actions. The lust I had for him was far too much, and even with the slightest skin contact I knew I would lose it.

"You better be here and ready, 'cause if you're the cause of a towns destruction I'll kill you myself." I promised and he just looked down at me.

"I'm sure I'd much rather do the task myself." He murmured, walking away. I stared at him until he was out of site, eyes wide. Maybe, he really did care more then he let on…


	13. A Unexpected Apology

"Are you sure you read them right?"

"Of course I am."

"Well we are in the middle of nowhere, almost out of gas and still I don't see any building where this loon might be." I said, and Holmes looked out the window, brows together.

"There." He pointed and I looked to see what looked like to be a old library coming up on the hill. It was grey outside, a storm surely coming.

I pulled into the empty and old parking lot, both of us getting out as we looked around. The wind blew strongly as a light rumble told me rain was coming. "I don't see anyone." I said as we walked up and stopped on the sidewalk in front of the large entrance.

"You guys would show up on time." We turned to see a normal sized guy with short black hair and wearing a suit came up, stopping and facing us a couple of meters away. "There goes my fun. Oh well, I guess it's about time we get down to business huh?" He asked in his odd voice. It was both high pitched and low pitched at the same time.

"Who are you?" Holmes asked.

The man smiled then, looking over to me. "I've been waiting a long time to officially meet you." I stared at him and he only smiled more. "You see, our whole lives have revolved around each other. Me to you, you to Mr. Holmes and he to you. A very fun cycle to watch blow up in your faces indeed, but it's time to end this." he bowed then. "Allow me to introduce myself as none other then James Moriarty, 4th generation and sole supervisor for the master plan." He stood then and sighed. "I would like to say this plan was all mine, but I can't. You see, from the very start, your parents death, it was all planned out. You made a very powerful enemy Sherlock Holmes. And your only in the frying pan."

"What do you want?" I yelled and he laughed.

"What do _I_ want? I don't want anything! I'm just following orders passed down for years, made for me. Hence my name." He then wiped off her jacket and looked at us sadly. "Now, onto why we are here. I'm very sad at how long it's taken you guys to figure out my little code." He looked to Sherlock with a smirk. "Though, we both know you had it figured out on day two." I shot my head and looked up at Holmes, but he didn't look down at me. "Any who, the whole 'secret book' thing is fake. There is no other book. Great, great Grandfather Moriarty sent the rumor around as so we could meet up! Lovely man he is. So, now comes the real riddle."

My brows came together as I looked at this odd, but dangerous man. "What riddle?" I asked.

"The one to tell us where the device is to get back to my time." Holmes answered, teeth clenched tightly.

"Ohhhhhh!" Moriarty said in a very gay way. "What a clever boy you are! This might be fun after all!" He kinda giggled, then smiled at us. "Here it is. The message is 'The way back home is where your heart lies'." He said, then looked away. "Ah, but alas our fun doesn't start until later. Have fun you two!" he turned his back to us and began to walk away, before I almost lost it.

"You don't honestly expect me to let you go do you?" I yelled, going to run forward but Holmes caught my shoulder.

"Yes. I do." He called back, and I growled, trying to break Holmes's grip.

"Lemmie go! Stop! YOU CAN'T JUST SAY YOU KILLED MY PARENTS AND WALK AWAY!" I screamed as Holmes grabbed me and held my against his chest. But once I broke free, Moriarty was gone. I then turned and started to hit Holmes in the chest, hot, rueful tears pouring down my face. "Why-did you- let- him go!" I yelled as I continued to hit him. He then grabbed my arms, and I fell to my knees, him falling with me as I curled into his body. "It's all your fault!" I cried. All of this, every inch of it, was all his fault. That man destroyed my life! My family! Sent me back in time! All because of what? Why was I so fucking important? "It's all your fault they died!" I clenched his shirt tightly in my fist as he just held me. How could he be so calm? After all of this- why isn't he worried about getting back? "It's all your fault…" I whispered before I passed out- the anxiety being too much.

Being asleep, I missed his one, and only comment. "I know….. And I'm sorry…"


	14. Of Rage and Romance

*Sherlock's POV*

I know she's angry. I even know she has a right to be, but this silence…. It was hard enough to go weeks without her back when she lived in my era, but now…. It's almost unbearable. Maybe she was right, maybe I'm not meant to be with her. All I've done is cause her pain.

"Ugh, now I know why I swore off women long ago." I grumbled. I was taking a walk around her neighborhood, in deep thought. I could not figure that riddle out to save my life, and along with Lara ignoring me, I was about to blow a fuse. Of course I had no suck luck of calming down, for when I approached the house, Lance's large automobile was parked in the driveway. What was worse is they were both talking on the porch. As I silently walked without notice and stepped onto the porch, I found out they were not talking, but arguing.

"I told you Lance! I will _not_ leave this house!" Lara growled. I could not see her being the brute had his large body blocking her from my view.

"Why? Those old guys to busy gang banging you?" He yelled and anger boiled in my veins. Is this how men behave in this era? And what's with Lara? She _never_ lets anyone talk to her like that.

"You know I wouldn't cheat on you! And besides! You know what this house means to me!" She finally yelled, and my brows came together. The house? What the _house_ meant? It would appear my gift of observation has diminished for I could not answer any questions when it came to this fiery-tempered gypsy.

But as soon as I saw that brute's hand go up, I reacted faster then I have ever have before. I was suddenly facing Lance, slightly off to the side and I grabbed a hold of his wrist, slowly glaring up at him as he stared down at me in surprise. Then as he went to say something I elbowed him in the side, him falling to the wood hard being as I probably did some damage to his kidney. "A man should never hit a woman. Under _any_ circumstance." I said and he looked up at me with wide eyes. "All it proves is that your nothing but a coward." That got him.

He howled as he pounced up, going to punch my face but I only side stepped, grabbing onto his arm and using his own force to throw him over the railing and land in the bushes. After that he limped as fast as he could to his truck and drove off, silence reigning our situation now. I glanced down at Lara, who looked up at me with wide, sad eyes. I wanted to say something, and only one thing crossed my mind. "You've lost that fire that I found so endearing about you." With that, I walked inside the open door.

*Normal POV*

I just stood there in stunned silence, body frozen as his words echoed into my very being. He was right though… I became a different person, someone that I despised more then I did Moriarty who _murdered_ my parents. I looked inside the house and directly up the stairs, knowing he was in my room. He liked going in there and just staring out the window. If I was reading or doing homework he would just sit on the open window and stare sadly out. I never asked him why, I figured he wouldn't tell me.

I sighed and walked in, closing the door and walking up the stairs, trying to think of something to say. Anything ot say to him. To say sorry, to tell him why I do this to myself, to ask him how bad does he miss _his_ Watson. Just something to get us to talk again. To get things back to how it was when we were in his era.

As expected he stood, back facing me, staring out the window. He wore a tight black shirt and black pants, his short hair spiked and his long, strong neck tense. As I walked in I closed the door, walking up behind him, my entire body shaking with the pure adrenaline pumping through my veins has my heart pounded loudly in my ears. "Sherlock…" I finally got out, and he turned to face me slowly, his burning brown eyes doing terrible, yet wonderful things to me. And as he stared at me there was nothing that I could say that would ever mean anything. In that moment, I knew what I had to do.

I took a step forward and leaned up to kiss him, getting a thrill as he met me halfway and put his hands on my hips. I inhaled and kissed his hard as I closed my eyes tightly with the sudden rush of his emotions. For a man who swears he has none, his emotions who powerful and intoxicating, riveting me further into passion.

I forgot that when we touched he could also feel mine, for when he spun me and slammed my back into a wall I gasped, giving his tongue the opportunity to force it's self into my mouth. As I grabbed onto his neck he tilted his head to the side for better access. As his tongue thoroughly sent me to new heights, he broke the kiss and began to attack my neck, kissing and biting as I held back my moans. He then pulled my waist to his as he kept my back against the wall, him groaning and me inhaling as our bodies fit together, his hardness against my sex. Once he had properly marked my neck he kissed me again, our mouths moving together with hunger as our need grew. It was weird, not only feeling his emotions but know he could feel mine.

"Sherlock." I whispered against his lips as we broke for air and he held me closer, his forehead against mine as he inhaled deeply.

"I figured the riddle out." He said and I opened my eyes dazedly, staring right into his rich, brown orbs.

"Stay with me tonight." I whispered and I felt his confusion.

"Did you not hear me?" He asked and I smiled, closing my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"It doesn't matter where the device is, because your not leaving me. Not for a long time." I ordered, and he smiled mischievously, a glint in his eyes.

"As you wish."

* * *

**WARNING! **

**Next chapter will be a lemon.**


End file.
